


I forgot to say out loud how beautiful you really are to me

by Ellstra



Series: Huxloween [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Despair, Emperor Hux, Established Relationship, Insomnia, M/M, Referenced Eating disorder, Supernatural Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 05:37:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8237941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellstra/pseuds/Ellstra
Summary: Kylo is acting strangely. Hux tries all he can think of but he's only left to watch as his husband dissipates under his fingers.





	

**Author's Note:**

> There's a sort of major character death in this but not really. It's complicated.  
> Title from the song "Please don't leave me" by Pink.  
> Inspired by the prompts Transformation and Ghosts for Huxloween.

It starts subtly, almost imperceptibly. Hux blames it on Kylo’s hard work, on his many missions. He tells himself it will get better if he orders Kylo to take a leave, that he’ll rest. Neither of them really has the time to take a holiday but Kylo’s vacant gazes and lack of response just about settles it.

They go to a planet far away from their duties, far away from Hux’s throne and Kylo’s lightsaber. Kylo doesn’t even protest when Hux chooses the location. It’s difficult not to see it as alarming, but Hux manages to convince himself that maybe, for the first time in their relationship, Kylo doesn’t have any objections to his plans. It unsettles him; he used to think he’d be grateful if Kylo stopped antagonizing him all the damn time. Turns out it terrifies him.

Kylo sleeps almost all the time. When he doesn’t, he lies in bed and stares at the ceiling. Hux watches him over the brim of his datapad and spends nearly all the time checking if Kylo’s still breathing, if his chest still moves. This isn’t just fatigue, this is uncharacteristic. Kylo usually can’t stay still for much longer than his necessary six hours of sleep, always either working, training or persuading Hux to have sex with him. And even in his sleep, Kylo is not exactly still. He always takes up all the space on the bed, no matter how big it is, and keeps grabbing onto Hux during the night, pulling him closer or kicking him in the shins. Kylo is pure energy. He doesn’t stay still.

Except now he does. There’s no difference between him asleep and awake. He gets up to eat when Hux beckons to him, takes a shower when he sees Hux do so. Kisses back when Hux presses his mouth to Kylo’s; mechanically, without a hint of passion.

Hux tries to get Kylo to do something. Arranges a hunt, puts on a complicated costume for a roleplay that always seemed very important to Kylo. He even promises to go swimming with Kylo. Hux hates swimming. Hates water in general; he’s had his fair share of it during his childhood and adolescence. For some reason, Kylo loves fooling around in pools. Hux drags him to a beautiful mountain lake with clear water that’s the right temperature for swimming and expects Kylo to break into a childish, cheerful laughter. Kylo just tags along as Hux takes his hand and leads him in, not resisting, not leading. Just complying.

Hux never thought he’d hate someone’s compliance. He’s built his life around discipline and order. He required obedience and controllability from his subjects. He supposes that’s why he fell for Kylo Ren. Kylo never complies, never follows the rules and he isn’t afraid to confront Hux, to defy him. Kylo’s unruliness has become something so omnipresent in Hux’s life he doesn’t even notice it anymore. There’s a surprise every once in a while which, paradoxically, builds a routine. The true rupture is Kylo’s sudden docility.

“Is something wrong with you? With the Force? Did I do something wrong?” Hux asks afterwards when he’s dried Kylo with a towel and wrapped him in a blanket.

“I’m fine,” Kylo mumbles, staring in front of himself vacantly. Hux snuggles by his side, wrapping his arm around Kylo’s waist, desperate to get some sort of reaction out of his husband.

“No, you’re not, you’re barely talking to me. What is it?” Hux demands, “is it me? Just tell me if it is. I can handle it. I’m not keeping you here. The piece of metal is not holding you here. Just talk to me, Kylo, please.”

“Everything’s fine.”

Hux wishes it sounded snappy or angry, like Kylo was passive aggressive and wanted Hux to leave him in peace to sulk. He wishes it had the usual venom of Kylo’s retorts when Hux is being obnoxious or when the world over all is too much. Even those that are bordering on either tears or a violent outburst. He’d give anything for Kylo to snap, to scream, to break things. Kylo just sits on the grass.

“Please talk to me,” Hux begs again, “please.”

“What do you wish to talk about?” Kylo asks without looking at Hux.

“Anything. You’re the one who always talks,” Hux shrugs and lays his head on Kylo’s shoulder. “Just tell me something.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Kylo says, his voice monotonous, like from a machine. Hux shudders when an association flickers in his mind. The picture of a very complicated, nearly perfect android you can have built for you in the shape of a loved one.

Hux closes his eyes tightly and presses his nose against Kylo’s shoulder to break this illusion. He shivers again when he finds cold bones instead of warm muscles. Is Kylo losing his warmth too, his shape? Hux finds one of Kylo’s hands and grasps it in his own, wincing at the coldness of it.

“How do you feel about this holiday?” Hux asks, knowing he’s putting salt into wounds but unable to stop himself.

“Feel?”

Hux inhales deeply. There is something seriously wrong with Kylo. He should take him to a doctor. Kylo would have a five-minute-long monologue about why this holiday sucked. Or talk excitedly for long minutes. He wouldn’t give a confused, tentative one word as an answer, almost not knowing what it meant.

“Yes,” Hux murmurs.

“I feel…whatever you feel.”

“I’m worried.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re acting strangely and I’m worried about you.”

“I apologise.”

 _No_ , Hux thinks, _don’t apologise. Please just don’t apologise_.

“I think I’d like a doctor to see you,” Hux says after a while of silence.

“Alright.”

Hux wishes Kylo put up some fight or protested but he kisses Kylo’s cold, hard cheek either way, brushes away his hair and wraps himself around Kylo, giving him his own heat as if that can somehow fill the void or warm up freezing hands.

…

“I’d say it’s depression most likely but that would only explain some symptoms, like the vacant stare, the disinterest in the outside world, motionlessness. But the drop of temperature or the way he seems translucent… I cannot explain that. There are no signs of infection or tumours or any other pathology physically. I sent him to all the specialists but they all report the same,” the doctor tells Hux in a small room above a glass of whiskey, “The only explanation I can offer is that it has something to do with the Force.”

“The Force?”

“When you use a knife too many times, it gets blunt. Of course, you can sharpen it, but it won’t be exactly the same.”

“You’re saying my husband is a knife that needs sharpening?” Hux frowns and takes a deep breath. He’s getting emotional in front of someone else. He shouldn’t do that, not even in front of someone who knows him the best after Kylo. But he didn’t get his usual share of emotional outlet lately, Kylo’s empty eyes not following his gestures or words.

“I’m saying your husband is a blade that got sharpened to the limit, to the breaking point. That’s the only explanation I can give you. He took from the Force and now the Force is taking from him.”

“How do I stop it then?” Hux snaps.

“I don’t know the ways of the Force.”

“This is just brilliant,” Hux huffs and hides his face in his hands, “just brilliant.”

He feels like exploding, or maybe like folding in on himself like a portable chair. If the doctor is right and Kylo is being consumed by the Force, how is Hux supposed to save him? He doesn’t know a thing about it.

“I can give him depression medication,” the doctor says tentatively a moment later when Hux stands frozen, hopeless, lost.

“Thank you.”

“Maybe the weight and temperature loss is from his sudden lack of movement. There are no absolutes in medicine, you know,” the doctor goes on when Hux refuses to look at him, “miracles happen.”

“I…appreciate your effort,” Hux deflates and looks at the doctor, “I really do.”

“Come talk to me if you want. I know you’re very lonely without him fully here.”

Hux wants to protest, wants to snap. Wants to shout that he’s not lonely, that Kylo is not the only person he has in the vastness of the Galaxy he’s ruling, or that it’s none of the doctor’s business if he is. But he’s tired and terrified.

“He’s the only thing that truly matters in my life at this point,” he hears himself saying without really deciding to do so, “I’ve always tried to one-up myself, to push myself farther. I rule the Galaxy now, there’s nowhere else to go, realistically. The relationship with him is the only thing I can work on now.”

“That is not true and you know it,” the doctor opposes, “you rule the Galaxy. That’s a lot of work, hard work.”

“Yes but…it doesn’t matter without him. What’s the point of making the Galaxy a better place if he’s not there to see it?”

“You didn’t become a General of the First Order before the age of 35 for him either, did you? It was your ambition, and you ambition got you here,” the doctor pours himself more whiskey, then looks pitiably at Hux and fills his glass too, “I know it’s hard. But you need to focus on other things too. You’ll lose your mind if you keep thinking about him all the time.”

“What if I want to lose my mind?” Hux chuckles mirthlessly and stares into the tawny alcohol.

“The man I watched give order to destroy a planetary system would never say this.”

“Maybe the man is gone.”

“Maybe Kylo wouldn’t want him to go.”

“You’re playing dirty now,” Hux accuses, “that’s not fair.”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s necessary,” the doctor points out, “don’t give up. Work. Give him the meds, feed him, keep him warm. Maybe take him to a warm sunny planet?”

“Okay,” Hux shrugs and downs his glass, “thank you for your support.”

“Anytime.”

…

They move to a different planet as the doctor advised. Hux spends hours outside with Kylo by his side, almost never leaving a spacious terrace. He’s wearing a thin shirt and sweating, dribbles flowing down his brow and smearing the sunscreen there. Kylo is wrapped in two blankets and stares impassively in front of himself, unresponsive to anything but touches. Hux makes sure Kylo’s properly hydrated but he refrains from touching his skin which remains eerily cold despite the hot weather.

…

“It’s getting worse,” Hux says, for about the millionth time already, “he doesn’t respond to sounds anymore. Yesterday I dropped a cup beside him and he didn’t even flinch when it shattered.”

“That’s very peculiar,” the doctor frowns, “there were no signs of hearing impairment a couple of weeks ago.”

“I don’t think he’s deaf,” Hux shakes his head a little, “he’s just… losing connection to this world. He stopped talking long ago but now he doesn’t even register my words. He only ever notices me when I move right in front of him or touch him.”

…

Hux knows he must be losing his mind but he swears Kylo is truly getting translucent this time. Not figuratively. Literally translucent. He’s solid to the touch, Hux keeps making sure, always touching, always holding Kylo close, but there’s a whitish, pale quality to him. He allows Hux to feed him and bathe him and dress him but he no longer shows any sort of acknowledgement of the world.

Hux is terrified to ask the doctor what he thinks about it, afraid he truly is losing it, despite his promise not to focus solely on his husband’s condition. He works too much, reading reports the moment he gets them, never properly resting. His time is divided between his work and his anxious observance of Kylo, looking for any signs of further deterioration. He doesn’t even hope it will get better anymore but he doesn’t tell the doctor, afraid he’ll get a diagnose as well. His sleep comes sparsely, at the end of a too long period of stress and work when he’s too exhausted to stay awake. He’s thinner than he ever was, his ribs and vertebrae showing like they haven’t since he was a child suffering from pneumonia. There are wrinkles around his eyes, on his brow, his hands. He spots grey hair on a regular basis and it’s not even a surprise anymore. He’s losing colour too, as if the Force is draining him as well, not getting enough from Kylo alone.

Hux is convinced it’s the Force. He dismissed it at first, thinking it ridiculous. But what about the Force isn’t ridiculous? Now he’s convinced it is. Everything bad about his life came from the Force and this is apparently its ultimate joke. It gave Hux something to love, something to seize his soul and now it’s taking it back along with Hux’s life, ripping his heart out.

He lives off caf and stress and it shows. He’s trembling all the time, wrapped in more and more layers; even the sun doesn’t warm him up anymore. He wonders if he’s following Kylo’s fate; in the wee hours when he’s the most desperate, when he misses Kylo’s caresses and his warmth, in those he allows himself to hope he is, that he’ll disappear if Kylo does. He hates himself for it after his four hours of restless sleep, remembering the doctor’s words about Kylo not wanting Hux to throw his life away.

Hux knows the doctor is watching him, bumping into him seemingly on accident but always going for exposed skin that Hux shows less and less. He knows the doctor is trying to see through his clothes, thinks, paranoid, that the man can somehow sense his protruding bones. They dance around each other, both pretending to be oblivious of the other’s thoughts. Hux wonders why the doctor doesn’t confront him. He thinks he would confront himself in the situation, but then again, he went to a military academy. He has no idea what compassion with others is, or if sometimes it’s better not to poke at the wounds.

…

“I wish he didn’t kill his uncle and the girl,” Hux sighs when he and the doctor watch Kylo’s now apparently see-through body. He’s losing substance too. Hux remembers the first time he reached forward to brush a strand of hair away and found cold, empty air instead. He broke down, whimpering in despair as Kylo’s impassive, colourless eyes stared at him, unblinking, unaffected.

“Maybe that’s the reason the Force is taking him. It’s dying and wants to take him with it. Or it hopes to feed on him and get more powerful,” he continues bitterly, his voice quivering.

“I think the Force cannot die. It’s always been and always will be.”

“Then why does it want him?!” Hux screams. The doctor flinches; Kylo doesn’t, “if it doesn’t need him, why is it taking him?!”

The doctor puts his arm around Hux’s shoulders gently, offering him the chance to refuse the comfort. Hux doesn’t, to their mutual surprise. He curls up, trying to make himself as small as possible, trying to pretend it’s Kylo holding him. It’s not; the doctor is shorter and more round but he’s warm and that’s enough for Hux. He sobs, all the tension he didn’t allow himself to release leaving him like a flood.

“I need him,” Hux sniffles, “I need him, I need him, I need him.”

…

Hux comes back to an empty room. He glances at the bed and lets out a strained choke before rushing to it, pulling all the blankets off viciously, throwing them all over the room. He falls onto his knees. There is no way Kylo suddenly got up and left the bed he was lying in for the last months. Hux lost that sort of hope a long time ago.

He must have fallen asleep because there’s some time missing from his memory. He raises his head off the bed, red, puffy, covered in tears and snot. He pulls the covers closer to him, clinging onto them pathetically.

He’s drifting off again, his legs long ago deadened by his uncomfortable posture. He feels as if his body is trying to catch up on all the sleep it didn’t get, finally relaxing from the rigidness of worry. His lashes are the only thing obscuring his view when a bluish glow catches his attention. He looks at it sleepily, barely interested. His eyes open slowly.

“Hux.”

He throws his head back suddenly to follow the sound. His gaze falls onto the figure standing on the other side of the bed. He blinks, once, twice, but it doesn’t go away.

“Kylo?” he whimpers.

“Yes, it’s me, love.”

“How?” Hux chokes. He tries to climb onto the bed but his legs won’t obey, swarming with pins and needles.

“I don’t know. I just know I can finally talk to you again.”

“But you’re not here,” Hux says, accusingly, “you’re not here.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” the ghost mumbles.

“No. Just stay with me, I don’t care how you do it, just stay here.”

Hux finally makes it onto the mattress and crawls over to the shadow of his husband.

“I can’t.”

“No, you have to. You promised. You have to stay with me.”

“It’s hurting you,” Kylo says softly, “as long as I’m here, you won’t move on.”

“I don’t want to move on. I need you. The world doesn’t make sense without you.”

“I’ll always be with you. You can feel it; the Force unites as all.”

“Fuck the Force,” Hux spits.

“No, the Force is good,” Kylo tells him, “it did what it had to do.”

“Why did it have to take you?”

“I don’t know yet. As long as I’m here, I can’t learn the secrets of it.”

“Amazing.”

“I’ll wait for you, I promise,” Kylo whispers, “but I need you to live your share. Okay?”

“You’ve always asked for so much and gave so little in return.”

“I know, love.”

“I love you.”

“I know,” the ghost smiles.

Hux reaches his hand forward, wants to touch Kylo for the last time before he disappears but there’s a force-field around him, something that keeps Hux away. He lets out a pained moan.

“I can’t allow you to do this to yourself,” Kylo says with a sad smile, “goodbye, my love. I’ll see you around.”

“Why do you have to be this dramatic all the time?” Hux murmurs when the ghost dissipates, leaving a cold, empty room behind. Hux collapses onto the bed and pulls the blankets over himself, falling asleep once more.


End file.
